Freak Like Me
by Cestrel
Summary: discontinued Sometimes, following the advice of a dog leads to more trouble than it solves. A young werewolf struggles to come to terms with her curse, whilst on the run. RLHG but not central
1. Prologue

A/N: I know Sirius is dead, but I planned this fic before the fifth book came out. I've made some changes to the story to make it fit better with the fifth book. Everything will be explained in due time, however.

Well, R&R, please. There's nothing I like better than a mail saying '[FanFiction.net] Review Alert!'!

The howls brought back memories of his childhood. How he'd sneak out the nights of the full moon. How he'd wait impatiently for the moon to rise. He thought fondly of the nights they roamed, the foursome. How they explored every corner of the forest during those nights, the stag, the fog, the rat – he growled a little at that – and the werewolf. The wolf came into the clearing. It was only a cub. He knew instinctively that this was no ordinary wolf. The moon was full. He approached the wolf cub.

_Hello, Little One,_ he sent to the cub. It stilled, before turning. He followed it.

_Be not afraid_. The cub did not stop. Its short legs stumbled upon roots. The people who took care of this werewolf obviously knew nothing about it. How else could they let a lycanthrope run loose in a forest?

He caught up with the cub quickly. 

_Why do you run from me, wolf-child?_

He looked into its eyes. No, those were definitely human eyes. He decided to accompany the wolf-child through the night. He knew what wolf-humans did to themselves when they were alone.

As the full moon set, giving way to the first beams of sunlight, the small wolf cub started to change into a little girl. He watched her silently. He remembered watching his other friend change back like this endless times. He had asked his other friend if it hurt. The friend had replied that it did. The young girl standing in front of him looked at him. She said nothing, just ran away. He didn't follow. He had a feeling he'd be seeing a lot of her again. The black dog turned swiftly on his heels and trotted back into the forest.


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks ever so much to HPFanFicLuvr, who is my beta for this story too, and to my reviewers:

**LythTaeraneth**: Gone then… Sirius is gone.

She sat in her small attic room crouched against the wall. She didn't move, she just stared at a point on the wall and listened. If she concentrated she could hear hat they were saying on the ground floor.

"I'm worried about the girl," she heard her mother say. The girl. It was as if she was an imamate object. She drew a breath. Of course, she couldn't have expected them to accept her. She was a freak.

"It's been over a year, and she hasn't said a single word."

She smiled wryly. It worried them. Why should it? They didn't care about her, they had shown it quite plainly. All the bother she had caused, why should they care? It was the eighth time she broke loose from the cellar in which they held her. She knew she was bad. She was evil. All werewolves were. She put her hands to her ears. She didn't want to hear any more.

"Anastasia!" her mother called up the stairs. She pressed her hands tighter. She didn't want to go to school. She didn't want to face the others again. Couldn't she fake illness? Her mother would never know. A lump formed in her throat. If only she were normal! She could hear her mother coming up the stairs.

"Anastasia," her mother said curtly. "Go downstairs."

She grabbed her by the arm and walked down with her.

When they came into the kitchen, her father simply raised an eyebrow and continued reading. Her mother sat her down on a bench.

"Fix yourself some breakfast."

Anastasia stared at the table. She filled a bowl of cereal and picked up a spoon. It burned her hand, and she dropped it quickly. Why did they have to give her silver cutlery all the time? She looked at her hand. It was scorched. 

"What's the matter," asked her mother curtly. 

Wordlessly, Anastasia pointed at the silver spoon.

"I won't spoon feed you, you know," said her mother. "Eat it yourself." 

Her mother knew quite well that Anastasia reacted badly to silver, but she didn't care.

Anastasia picked up the spoon and tried to ignore the burning feeling. It was as if her mother had asked her to hold a piece of burning coal in her hands. 

She finished the meal quickly.

Padfoot curled up to sleep. He remembered the wolf-child from yesterday. She had been scared, he knew that much. But not of him, of herself. Instinct told him that she thirsted for love, but felt she didn't deserve it. He suspected that her parents had abandoned her when she received the curse of lycanthropy, in one way or another. He stood up. Sleep could wait. There was a werewolf that needed love and protection, and he was going to give it to her.

Elfrida Bullstone and May Rogers were at it agaiun.

"Where were you yesterday, freak?" Elfrida asked spitefully. "Skipping classes?"

"No, you don't have anyone to skip classes with," continued May. "Nobody likes someone who doesn't talk." 

Anastasia kept her eyes firmly on the ground. If she didn't do anything, they'd go away in a bit, she told herself. All around her children were playing with their friends. They had never cared about her. 

May and Elfrida continued jeering, as she kept her eyes firmly on the ground.

The trail of wolf-child grew stronger as he drew closer to the town. Padfoot could barely hide his excitement. He knew that the wolf-child was important, and it was important that he found her. Looking for her felt right. 

The scent tickled his nose. She had been here not long before. Perhaps merely an hour or so. He looked up to see where he was. A playground. 'How stupid of me' he thought. 'I should have realized that cubs go to school.' The playground was deserted. The cubs were probably having lessons. He thought fondly at his own schooldays. He hadn't always been fond of his teachers, but they were the ones who had prepared him for his life. He had not been very fond of his family.

A bell sounded and soon the school ground was swamped with little cubs. So many scents! It took a while before he noticed the distinct sense of wolf-child. Finding the owner of the scent was an entirely different matter. A young boy stooped to pet him. 

"Here boy," he said in a gentle tone. "Aren't you the cutest?"

Padfoot's jaw dropped before he closed it indignantly. 'Cute'? He was old enough to be the boy's grandfather! The boy ruffled his fur. Padfoot was getting sidetracked. He tried to follow the trail, but all the other scents interrupted him. He gathered all his senses and concentrated his hardest. He _would_ find the child. He had to. 

It was by coincidence Anastasia stumbled across the dog. She hadn't meant to. She had been trying to hide from Elfrida and May. They weren't technically allowed behind the school, and most children avoided it, since it was hard to hear the bell there. That was one advantage of being a werewolf. He heightened senses – although not as sharp as when she was in wolf form – allowed her to hear quite a lot she shouldn't. She had been quite surprised when she heard – no, heard wasn't the right word, _sensed – a voice behind here._

_You were quite hard to find, wolf-child, the voice said. Anastasia stiffened. Who knew her for the freak she was? Could all animals sense it? She turned around to face the dog from yesterday's transformation._

_Hello, he greeted her._

She nodded to him and sat down. He would explain why he had come if he wanted to. One thing Anastasia hated was being pressed for information. She wondered stilly what she would have done if she hadn't been blessed with the patience of a saint. She would have had quite some trouble, relaying her message without words.

He however, waited for her to make a move. He was unnerved by the cub's stillness. A young child should not have such serenity. Nor should it have such eyes. But he supposed it was her condition. Turning into a wolf each month had not been easy on his childhood friend, and nor would it be easy on the girl sitting in front of him. He wondered when she had received the curse. Perhaps she was the child of another werewolf, and had received the condition at birth. Otherwise she was just beginning to reach the point where she was beginning to understand the implications her lycanthropy would hold for later life. She was waiting for him to take the first step. 

_You are silent, wolf-child, he stated. She fixed those unnerving eyes on him. __Too silent, he continued. He had expected her to reply out loud. He had expected her to laugh, like any normal cub would. The wolf-child, however, was no normal cub._

_Indeed? She sent. There was no sarcasm in her voice, just plain curiosity. He hadn't even known wolf-humans could send in their human state. _

_Yes, he replied. __Cubs are not supposed to be silent._

Her deep blue eyes did not leave his face, as she watched him silently. He felt as if she was searching every single corner of his soul. Her eyes made it seem like she could see all of his secrets. 

The sound of a bell was heard. She stood up and looked away.

_I must go. Will you wait for me here?_ It was formulated as a question, but really, it was an order. The thought of disobeying her was a distant to Padfoot as betraying his best friend was. He snorted – if it could be called a snort – a little at that. Everybody had believed he _had_ betrayed his best friend. It was quite ironic, the way destiny worked against you sometimes. 

Keeping her mind on lessons was harder than Anastasia thought it would be. She kept thinking of the dog. It occurred to her that she ought to find out his name. Calling him 'dog' didn't exactly seem right. It was like her mother and father calling her '_her_' or 'girl'. It was months since she last heard someone other than Miss Cotton – her teacher – call her by her first name. Often Anastasia wondered if she inherited her patience from Miss Cotton. 'It certainly wasn't from my mother, not from my father. And Miss Cotton is one of the most patient people I know. She must be – dealing with me.' Anastasia knew what a nuisance she was. She knew how she annoyed people, not answering them. Her father called it 'obstinacy', but it wasn't. She had tried to speak, honestly, but she couldn't. Not since that night. The night she had met a wolf in the forest. How was she to know that it was no ordinary wolf? She had backed away from it – slowly so as not to scare it. She had tried to be quiet as a mouse. It would have worked, if it had been a real wolf. But no, it just had to be a werewolf. Her mother and father had been worried. They had seen a doctor with her. He had said it was shock. Nothing could be done. Of course, when her father and mother found out her _other_ secret, they didn't bother about it any more. It would have been humorous, if it hadn't been so serious, her father's reaction. Anastasia had learnt from an early age that her father despised any sort of 'freakiness'. When her mother had died her favourite dress grey in the wash, Anastasia had been broken-hearted. There was something about the colour grey she just despised. The next day, it was returned to its ordinary yellow state. Her father had been furious. He'd ripped the dress to pieces, whilst screaming how _she_ had done it. 

Anastasia was pulled out of her reverie by Miss Cotton calling her. She snapped to attention. 

"Were you listening?" asked the teacher. Anastasia shook her head. She knew Miss Cotton wouldn't be angry. Perhaps a bit tired – Anastasia had dozed off like that endless times – and gently reprimand Anastasia, but she wouldn't be angry. Miss Cotton was the only person who seemed understand that she couldn't speak, but wanted to.

His name was Padfoot, he told her. She gave him hers, but so far he had not used it. He called her _Little One_, or _wolf-child, or __cub. Well, it was better than 'girl'. And it was certainly better than 'freak'. They sent and intercepted each other all the way home to her semi-detached house. The entire house gave out an air of neatness. It towered proudly among the orderly flowerbeds. _

_My mother and father won't be pleased to see you_, she told Padfoot as she swung the well-oiled gate open. _They don't like dogs._

_Please, _replied the dog. _I am no trouble. You can tell your parents that I am the model pet. _

She sighed. _I can't, she sent. Still he persisted. She sighed as she opened the door, barely glancing at the sign that proclaimed that here lived Mr. and Mrs. Dudley Dursley._


	3. Chapter 2

A/N: I am sooo sorry that I took so long time, and I know you probably want to kill me. I'm also terribly sorry I can't promise the new chapter any sooner, because my dad has cut down my computering hours quite severely to keep my grades up.

Thanks ever so much to my beta, HPFanFicLuvr, who helped me up when I was down, and to my reviewers. Some people may wonder about Sirius' presence in the fic. Everything will be explained in due time.

**Indy**: LOL. I rant about that a lot, don't I? Anyways, I'm glad you liked the twist.

**Chikel**: Oops. I hadn't realized that. My mistake.

**LythTaeraneth**: Indeed. Poor Anastasia. But she does have Sirius.

**Monkeystarz**: Thank you very much.

**HPFanFicLuvr**: Here it is! Sorry about the wait.

"Out! Get out! I never want to see you in my house again!" Mrs. Dursley pointed to the front door. She had been raving for quite some time about dogs being dirty and greedy and lazy.

_She means you, Padfoot_, sent Anastasia. _She doesn't like dogs. I told you so._

_'I told you so' is an extremely unpleasant phrase. You should avoid it at all costs, Little One, _he replied.

_Padfoot, are you even listening to me?_

"Girl, get that dog outside!"

Anastasia tried to get him outside, but it was very much like trying to get gum out of ones hair. 

I'm not leaving you. If you stay, I stay. If you go, I go. I still say you should run away. No more shouting, no more sleeping in the attic, no more eating with silver cutlery. 

_Padfoot, please go outside, _she tried to reason, although it hadn't worked before. _For my sake._

"If you don't get that mutt out of the door in two minutes, I'll kill him with my bare hands," her mother threatened. Anastasia's blood turned to ice. She couldn't kill Padfoot, she couldn't! She had to get Padfoot out of the house. There was just one thing to do. She turned around and walked out into the hallway. Padfoot followed her.

_Are you running away?_ He asked. The room vibrated with excitement, mostly his, although a tiny part of it was hers. 

_Yes. I won't let her shoot you,_ she told him firmly. She grabbed a ten-pound note from her mother's pocket.

_It won't last long,_ she sent, _but it's all there is._ She walked through the front door without looking back, Padfoot at her heals.

Angelica Dursley put a cup of coffee in front of her husband, Dudley.

"So then I told the dog to get out of the house and never come back, and she thinks I talked t her," she whined. Dudley grunted and turned the page. He was currently reading 'Financial Times'. 

"Dudley, are you listening to me?" Another grunt. "Our daughter has run of with a stray dog!"

Angelica grew more and more irritated with every page Dudley turned. She hadn't been particularly kind to her daughter, not since it became clear the girl was magical, and certainly not since a year ago, since the Incident. She had taken to calling it the Incident, when her daughter – there was no delicate way f putting it – turned into a creature. But even though she was not the ideal mother, she was very fond of the girl, magic beast or not, and could not stand the thought that her girl was roaming the streets. She felt as though everyone ought to care. But her husband obviously did not, and it infuriated her. Which was why Dudley Dursley a few moments later stared at the remains of his paper, which had been ripped up by his furious wife. Contrary to popular belief, Dudley was not heartless. He had just been very spoilt when he was child, and was used to everyone giving in to his little whim. He felt that it was his right to lose his temper, his and nobody else's. Which was why he was mostly angry with the girl for running away. Nobody except him was supposed to bring attention to themselves in such a rioting manner. Well, she would surely come back in a week or so when she was tired of street life. He told his wife so, rather impatiently, and they sat down and waited.

Anastasia had no plans on giving up even after a few weeks. At first running away had been an adventure. It had been exciting to sleep on the ground in human form, and it had been thrilling to run whenever they saw a police car. Although she doubted her parents had called the police. Now it was more than an adventure. It was a mission. She didn't know when it had become more serious, but somewhere along the way, she realized the importance of reaching someplace safe. If not for her, than for others. It just wasn't safe to have a young werewolf running loose. And her parents simply weren't capable of handling a monster. Padfoot was more capable. He was an excellent guide, and he was also very good at begging food. Her mother had always taught Anastasia that stealing was wrong, but for her it was necessary. She found her eyes were very helpful in that matter. If she tilted her head to the side with wide eyes, many shopkeepers and other she had stolen from did not suspect her in the slightest. Padfoot encouraged her on her escapades, telling her that she had lived a far too sheltered life. Padfoot said he knew of a place where werewolves were quite accepted, and were she would find a very kind family to live with. From what he has said about the castle, it seemed to Anastasia a wonderful place.

_Are you sure the family won't hate me for being a freak?_ wondered Anastasia for what must be the thousandth time, while munching on a packet of stolen biscuits.

Padfoot sighed over their connection, and didn't bother to reply. Anastasia had been asking similar questions all the time.

_You need some more self-confidence, wolf-child_, he told her. 

They were about one day from London. Padfoot was considering the best way to go to Hogwarts. The Hogwarts Express didn't run when nobody from the school wanted to ride it, and floo powder had complications, such as neither of them being able to say the location they wanted to reach.

 Going to the Leaky Cauldron would be his best bet. Quite a few people recognised him there by now, if not as Sirius Black in animagus form, then as the dog that always hung around the Hogwarts grounds.

_Padfoot, Padfoot! _He was broken out of his musings by Anastasia. She sounded rather anxious. _Padfoot, the full moon is in two days! _She sent. Padfoot cursed. He had totally forgotten in the excitement of running away. He would have to do better next time. 

_You forgot?_

_Hey, I'm a dog. What did you expect?_ He gave the dog equivalent of a sheep-like grin. Anastasia sighed. They needed to find the closest forest pretty quickly in order to be there in time for the moon.

_I am never going to trust you again_, she grumbled. Padfoot didn't reply. He was trying to remember if they had passed a forest on their way.

_I need a map,_ he sent. 

Anastasia stood up good-naturedly. She had no doubt Padfoot would solve the problem. Although he could be over-excited and scatter-brained sometimes, he was intelligent. In fact, sometimes Anastasia wondered if he wasn't a bit too intelligent for a dog. She like dogs. There was nothing wrong with them. But sometimes, they could just be so stupid. 

They reached the closest forest well in time.

_Now, you need to make sure I don't bite anyone, Padfoot. Nobody._ _Will you do that?_

Padfoot sighed.

_You worry far too much, wolf-child_. _I won't let you hurt anybody._

She gave a hesitant smile. It was the first genuine smile he had seen her give.

_You are much cuter when you smile, wolf-child_, she managed to intercept as the full moon rose slowly over the forest.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N: Well, here it is. Chapter 3. Sorry about the wait. Thanks to my beta-reader, HPFanFicLuvr, and to the following:

**Neoma**: Thank you. Although the end might take a while coming.

**Carrot Glace1**: Thank you!

LythTaeraneth: Thank you ever so much. It may have been a bit short, I don't really know. 

**I-Love-Moony**: Thanks! I will.

The young cub was, even though she was a bloodthirsty monster, still the patient, obedient girl he knew. She had kept with him most of the time, and when she had tried to run away, he had taken her in his mouth. She was still small enough for that. 

He felt that this rivalled the full moons he had spent with his other friends exploring the forest. The wolf-child had proven again and again that she was excellent company, and she was so even in wolf form. The two forms weren't that different, actually. As a child, Anastasia was unusually quiet and patient for a child, and, although she was less patient and quiet n wolf form, she was more so than his other wolf friend had been.

The full moon sank slowly and Anastasia found herself human once again. It had been one if the best full moons ever. Padfoot was so kind and gentle with her. He must have had experience with another werewolf, because he knew exactly what to do in most situations. 

She tried to stand up, but a paw held her down.

_Cubs need their sleep,_ Padfoot told her gently.

_'M not tired_, she replied, and yawned. Padfoot gave his doggy grin.

Anastasia tried to make herself as small as possible. She didn't know how this man knew Padfoot, but she was scared of him. He had joined them last night, and he knew who Padfoot was. She thought she had heard him talking to someone during the night, but it must have been her imagination. His wooden leg and extremely odd eye unnerved her.

"I'll give you a ride diagonally," the strange man said. Anastasia blinked. How could you give someone a ride diagonally?

Padfoot barked.

"This girl with you?" the man asked, and Padfoot nodded in affirmative. That settled it. Padfoot was a lot smarter than any other dog she had met. Anastasia was used to strange things happening. After all, being bitten by a werewolf wasn't something that happened to the average school child, so in her mind, a human dog was nothing extraordinary. She knew it would be to most people, but she knew and accepted that stranger things could happen. Like a man with a rotating eye, for example.

"OK, girlie. Grip onto me," he said, and she did so, while he scooped up Padfoot.

_I hate apparating like this,_ Padfoot sent. She had no idea what he meant. Apparating? She didn't have time to ask Padfoot before they stood in a strange place full of very strange people. 

"Well, here we are," the man grunted. "Diagon Alley."

Aha, He hadn't said, "I'll give you a ride diagonally," he had said "I'll give you a ride to Diagon Alley."

She smiled her thanks. Had Anastasia grown up in the Wizarding world, she would probably have said "Merlin's beard" or something similar. As she was neither from the wizarding world, nor could she speak, all she could do was stare around in wonder. The many scents nearly overwhelmed her, but they were all so very interesting. Many of them were unlike anything she had seen or heard about before. She even thought she could since a few other wolves in the crowd, but she couldn't be sure.

Padfoot took obvious delight in her wonder as she gazed from Quidditch Quality Supplies to Eyelope's Owl Emporium. He yapped excitedly.

_Wonderful, isn't it, cub?_ He sent. _You could sit here the entire day just analysing scents._ He paused for a moment. _Well, you probably could I never had the patience._

She smiled a bit. It was true she could just analyse scents in this place for hours on end. It really was a shame she couldn't go to the place when she was in wolf form, he scent sense was much higher at those times.

Anastasia wanted to stay longer at Diagon Alley, but Padfoot sent they must get going. He was in a hurry to get somewhere, Anastasia didn't know why. She felt oddly at peace among the strange people in pointed hats. Wizards, she decided. Witches and wizards. They were the only group of people who wore that kind of pointed hat. Anastasia knew she was a witch, after all, she made things happen, but she had never though of a whole community of witches before. The idea baffled her and she felt very small and very insecure. Who knew what magic could do?

_We must go, _Padfoot pressed. Anastasia merely nodded and followed Padfoot out.

London was amazing. For someone who had grown up in a small town next to a forest, it was overwhelming to stand there in the middle of all the shops.

_Padfoot, what if I get lost? _She sent.

_You worry too much, wolf-child,_ he replied, but she thought he sounded a bit worried. _Just stay close, okay?_

She nodded.

It was easier to get by in London. There were many shops to shoplift from, and with so many people around, nobody looked twice at neither Anastasia nor Padfoot. Still, Anastasia longed for the wilderness and quietness of the woods. She was a wolf, after all, and wolves belonged in forests. She found it easier to sleep under a tree than on a bench. Her sharpened senses were quite disoriented with so many scents around, but they weren't interesting scents, as they had been in Diagon Alley, and more than once did she almost lose Padfoot. The smoke and unclean air tickled her sensitive nose, and she found it extremely unpleasant. Now she was glad she didn't have to stay in London in wolf form. If her human nose had problems handling the scents, her wolf nose would nearly kill her.

She didn't know where Padfoot was heading, but each day he took her further into central London. She didn't complain. She figured it would soon be over, and then they could go back to living in the wilder land. Anastasia decided that she did not and would not like cities. Ever. She hoped the place they were going wasn't in a city. They passed huge shops, like British Home stores, and small shops, named things like "Anna's Boutique". They walked through wealthy neighbourhoods and slum neighbourhoods. All the time they were surrounded by people and scents. Anastasia soon grew used to all the scents, but what she couldn't get used to was the pollution, and the smell from various places. She hated every day in the city, especially since Padfoot was forced to leave. He hadn't wanted to go, she knew that. A man with black, greasy hair and a hooked nose had taken him. Padfoot had tried to get out of his grip, but he hadn't bee able to. Anastasia had wanted to help, but Padfoot told her not to.

_Go to Hogwarts,_ had been his last words. Hogwarts. The name attached itself to Anastasia brain. She had no idea where it was. Padfoot had walked northwards, so she would too. Perhaps she would find someone who knew where it was. If it was such a big castle as Padfoot had said it was, it must be rather well known.

She walked along the bustling crowds. Her eyes stung and she was jostled here and there. Nobody took any notice of her. She went to sleep behind a supermarket. A few days slipped by in a similar fashion. Her sense told her which way was north, and she tried to keep as steady a route as possible. Padfoot was constantly on her thoughts. What he was doing, where he was. Maybe he would be at Hogwarts when she arrived. Maybe he'd be yapping in his excited manner and welcome her with open arms. Maybe he'd give her a home there, with all the people who didn't mind wolves.

Summer was slowly fading into autumn, and she was nowhere near the end of London. She had never thought it could be so big! She sat down miserably in an alleyway and curled up to sleep.

She was awoken by a gentle shake.

_Padfoot?_ She sent, only to be greeted by silence. She looked around. A boy stood leaned against a wall nearby.

"Wotcher, squirt. I fought yer'd never wake up. Been waitin' for 'ours, like," he said kindly. "Are yer lost?"

Anastasia shook her head. She knew where she was going, and she thought she knew how to get there. That she didn't know exactly where she was didn't matter.

"Where do yer live then, squirt?"

Anastasia shrugged to show she lived nowhere.

"Live on the chuffin' streets like the bloody rest of us, ffen?"

She smiled a bit and nodded.

"Woss the matter, isit? Don't yer like ter speak?"

Anastasia was dumbstruck. How could she explain that she couldn't speak at all? Luckily he seemed to be able to interpret her lack of reaction.

"Yer can't speak, right, can yer?"

She shook her head, and he whistled softly.

"Holy shit. That's 'arsh. How ole are yer, right?"

She held up eight fingers. He whistled again.

"Like me sister. She's in foster care," he chatted, and continued; "I'm sixteen. Old, ain't I, then, eh, squirt? They wrote me off as an 'opeless case. Bit depressin', ain't it? An 'opeless case at fifteen. Not that I mind. I guess they're right."

Anastasia didn't know what to do. She was unfamiliar with this kind of situation and wished Padfoot was there to help.

"I'm bloody well sorry. Where are me manners, then, guv? I 'aven't introduced meself. Me name's Jack."

He stretched out his hand and she shook it. She decided she liked Jack a lot.

"Do yer mind if I call yer Squirt?"

She shook her head.

"Eh up, Squirt, Do yer know about gangs. Yer know, right, wen blokes decide ter protect each uvver against the bobbies?"

_I'm not stupid,_ she sent, but she knew he hadn't intercepted it. 

He must have seen the look on her face, though, because he hurried on; "O'course yer do. Well, right, any road, I'm the bloomin' leader of this gang, and if yer wanted I could take yer in, right? Like, right, an adopted bovver. Would yer like that, Squirt?"

He held out his hand. She took it.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Finally! A new chapter. Thanks as usual to my beta, HPFanFicLuvr, and to all my reviewers:

**I-Love-Moony**: I will write more. I just don't know how soon.

**LythTaeraneth**: Yes, she does. And that's on purpose. And the street kids _do _have a purpose in the story; it wasn't just something I threw in for fun. Well, it was at the beginning, but that's beside the point.

Sirius was angry. No, scratch that. He was furious. Didn't they realize that he was on a mission? He had to get to Anastasia. He had started out disrespecting the wolf-child. She had been so dependent on him, and far too trusting. She had been in need of constant reassurance. Sometimes he had even despised her for her low self-confidence. He had no patience with people like that. But she had been true, and loyal, and she certainly was patient. A definite Hufflepuff. 

He had known how much she hated the city, but he had thought it was best to go through anyway. Now she was stuck there. And it was the full moon soon. She'd be stuck in the city at the full moon. And all because Severus bloody Snape.

And he was angry with himself. Why hadn't he stuck around in the Leaky Cauldron like he had planned to? His stupid and selfish desire to feel the pulse of London had screwed things up. 

He paced up and down the office, scowling at everybody. Snape scowled back. Sirius didn't see why he should cowl like that; it wasn't him in the sticky situation. Honestly! "Lupin is worried about you, Black". "I was told to find you and bring you back". If only it had been anyone else than Snape. Then he could have explained that he needed to take care of the wolf-child. But of course, Severus Snape never listened.

Headmistress McGonagall folded her hands.

"Sirius, pacing won't help you," she said crisply. "Why did you want to bring the girl here?"

Sirius stopped. Hadn't he explained enough? He'd told them that it was an instinct, shouldn't that be adequate? 

He didn't bother replying.

"You know," he said instead. "If I knew where the cub was, I'd go right out of here and find her. But I won't. Because I can't find her among all those scents. Btu I do hope she has enough sense to come here anyway."

He stormed out the door.

He needed to do something to get all his anger out. The child was important. He knew that much. Just as Albus Dumbledore had known all those years ago that the group they called the Marauders would be important.

Maybe it was falling through the veil that gave him that insight. Dumbledore had always had that peculiar insight, but fro someone like Sirius… maybe he had needed it.

Behind the veil… he shuddered. Sometimes he thought it was worse than Azkaban, but no. Azkaban was worse. But all those ghostlike creatures, not human, nothing else. They had told him that he was in the Suburbs of the Dead. It hadn't been his time, so he had to wait. He hated waiting. And he hated the Suburbs. Everything looked as though it would fall to pieces any moment, and there was no colour whatsoever anywhere. There was some sort of hopelessness in the air. There was only one place to go from there. The Land of the Dead. There had been times when they were more cheerful, when they'd sing songs or tell tales, waiting. But somehow, they songs and tales always seemed to be about death. They knew it would come, maybe sooner or later. He used to wish for it. At least it would be better than not knowing what it was he'd face. Death, it seemed, was final.

But then, miraculously, Harry had appeared, in a golden shimmer. 

"Sirius," he said excitedly. "I found out how you can come back." He pressed his hands into Sirius' and suddenly Sirius found himself with a body.

He searched for words, but the only thing that came out was "How?"

"You know the locked room in the Department of Mysteries? Well, I found out what's behind it. It's Life. It killed Voldemort."

Sirius was by now stumped. How could Life kill Voldemort? He told Harry this.

"No, Sirius, it's real Life in there, which means accepting death, too. All those spells Voldemort had placed on himself to make him immortal had taken Life from him, so it killed him."

Sirius wasn't sure he understood completely, but refrained from saying so. 

A knock on the door broke him out of his musings.

"Are you still angry," asked Hermione, the Transfiguration professor. She had taken over McGonagall's place when the latter became Headmistress.

"I'm annoyed," he replied, but smiled at her. "Though not with you, Mrs. Lupin," he teased.

"That's Professor Lupin," she corrected, with only a slight blush. "Or Professor Granger, to keep me and Remus apart. After all, two Professor Lupins can be slightly confusing at times."

"We all thought you'd end up with Ron" Sirius said. "And then you went and married ol' Moony. I couldn't believe it when you asked Harry to be you Best Man." He laughed a little. "You always were full of surprises, you three. Well, make that six. Luna, Ginny and Neville were part of your group too, weren't they?"

She smiled and nodded.

He almost forgot he had a missing charge out there, sitting musing with her. Almost. But he still wondered what she was doing.

Anastasia locked the door firmly behind her, and made sure she would not be able to come out, even if the did have claws and extra-sharp teeth. It would be her first moon in the city, and she did not look forward to it at all. She removed the stool she had been standing on. The wolf wouldn't reach the lock, she was sure of that.

She had followed Jack to the abandoned warehouse they called home, and had me the gang. There was Bullet, a big, muscular boy who acted like a bodyguard to everyone. He was known in the entire area, and kept intruders and other troublemakers firmly away from any of the gang members. Then there was Lizard, who was the vice president of the gang. She had taught Anastasia how to pick pockets. 

Then there was Lightfingers, the very skilled pickpocket. The one Anastasia got on best with, save Jack, was Little T, who was only two years older than she was. There were many others in the "outer" rings of the gang, but Jack had told her he preferred if she kept to the people he had introduced her to. 

"I want yer ter be wiv blokes I know I can trust. These lads are 'andpicked by meself ter lead the gang along me. Yer can't trust the chuffin' uvver street kids."

The people Anastasia had been introduced to came and went as they wanted, but Jack kept strict tabs on everyone else. The moon rose slowly and Anastasia felt her limbs being either stretched or shrunken to change her into the wolf.

It was just as she had predicted. Terrible. The scents overpowered her, and she was lonely without Padfoot. She had to get out, but she couldn't the door was of steel, and locked. So she did the only thing she could. She howled and scratched herself. She needed to bite someone. She thirsted for blood. All those scents, they were so near, human scents, and yet she couldn't get to any of them. And the stench and pollution. She didn't know what to do with her poor nose, it was so horrible. She never wanted to spend another moon in the city again.

The next morning when she grabbed the footstool and opened the door, a very nervous Jack was waiting outside.

"Wot 'appened, eh? I 'eard yor 'owls, but yer 'ad locked the bleedin' door from the inside, then, eh! Oi! Yer 'ave a look terrible"

Anastasia just shrugged her shoulders.

Jack gathered her up in a tight embrace, something which surprised them both. It was in that moment they sealed their sibling bond.

"Why don't yer let Lizard potch yer up?"

Lizard expressed the same concern, and told Anastasia to let her look at the rest of her body. She patched her up quickly without a word, but after everything was done she began the inquisition. She didn't become any wiser though, because Anastasia was pretty good at telling only what she wanted to tell.

During the planning meeting, Anastasia climbed up on Jack's lap. He put his arms around her.

"I used ter be Jack's favourite girl, before yer came along," Lizard told her with a little smile.

Anastasia made a move to get up, but Lizard and Jack stopped her.

"No, right, it's right. Yer stay there, do wot guvnor! I don't mind."

Anastasia looked searchingly at Lizard, to see if she meant it.

"Cross me 'eart," the latter smiled.

Anastasia gave a small smile in return and snuggled up in Jack's lap. 


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Thanks to my beta, HPFanFicLuvr and to my reviewers:

**witch@heart**: Thank you! I'm glad you liked it.

**I-Love-Moony**: Thank you again.

**LythTaeraneth**: I know, they're nice. I'm sorry if I disturbed you with Remus/Hermione, but they do say, "Love is blind". And think of all the SS/HG stories out there. But I've labelled the story now.

**Hawkeye's Seductress**: Thank you. I'm glad you liked Anastasia – I do too. About the Remus/Hermione comment: see above.

She walked along beside Lightfingers, smiling slightly. It felt rather good, having his protection. Sometimes he would reach out so fast she could barely see his arm. When it return to him he held someone's purse in it. He grinned at her.

"Look, right, Squirt, wot ever yer do, don't turn into one of them rich wee snobs in flow'ry dresses, okay?"

He pointed to a group of well-clad girls who chitchatted about some boys from their school at the corner of a street.

She nodded and smiled. The thought of her as a snob was ludicrous. Besides, flowery dresses went out of fashion ages ago. She slipped her hand into Lightfingers' and smiled up at him. He was the sharpest one of the lot. Sometimes she was surprised that Jack was the gang leader, with Lightfingers so sharp and Bullet so strong, but those moments didn't last long. Jack certainly had some leadership qualities about him. He could think on his feet and had a trustworthy aura around him. She smiled a bit more at that thought. A pickpocket with a trustworthy aura. He'd be mortified.

" 'Ave a look 'ere, Squirt. Yer just wait right 'ere and I'll be hammer and tack in a jiffy."

She just nodded. She had gotten used to his rhyming slang by now, and had learned to decode it fairly well. She knew that "hammer and tack" meant back.

She sat down on the steps and waited, watching the large crowds go by. By now she had learnt to spot the interesting scents and ignore the rest. Not that there were many of the interesting ones, but every now and then a scent would remind her of Diagon Alley. Those scents would usually brighten her entire day, because they reminded her that someday, someone who knew Padfoot might, just might, stop by and find her. But she didn't long for Padfoot as much now as she had in the beginning. She had learnt to see the steadfastness and kindness of her gang.

There weren't that many interesting scents, which disappointed her. Sometimes when she had caught a particularly interesting scent she would feel happy for days. Usually that was when someone smelt of wolf, like her. 

Two scents caught her attention. One was another wolf-scent, but the other… she knew it was a man, she could smell that, but his scent was almost identical to Padfoot's, had Padfoot been a human being. She looked around to see where they came from, but couldn't find them. It was during such moments that she hated London. All those scents, they made it almost impossible to find the one she was searching for. She caught scent of Jack, but didn't rise from the steps. If Lightfingers found her gone he'd go nuts. Sometimes he was even more overprotective than Jack. They all were very protective of her and they were more of a family to her than her parents, the Dursleys, had ever been.

Jack spotted her and came walking over.

"Wotcher hangin' 'round 'ere for. Ain't it borin'?

She shook her head.

"Where's Lightfingers ffen?"

She pointed to the direction where he had went and smiled up at Jack. His concern was sweet, but it could become a bit annoying at times.

"Wot, he left yer?" she could hear the incredulousness in his voice. "I'm takin' a serious chat wiv 'im wen 'e comes 'ome. Come now, right, Squirt. He'll understand woss 'appened."

She shook her head as he held out his hand. Lightfingers had told her to wait. Even though Jack was her special brother, it felt wrong to worry him that way.

He took it, but she pulled it away. 

"Don't be silly, Squirt. Come on, right, let's go 'ome."

She shook her head once again. Why didn't he just understand? She couldn't leave because Lightfingers had told her to wait. 

"'Ave a look, he left yer. I'm sure 'e don't want yer ter sit 'ere and be bored. Yor a sensible girl, right, yer can take care of yorself," he coaxed, but she shook her head again. It was rather nice of him to be so worried about her being bored. If she could, she would explain that she wasn't bored at all. She had all the scents to explore, and she had received a glimpse of Padfoot's world. He, meanwhile, was running out of patience.

"I won't 'ave yer bein' 'ere alone, bored. I'm takin' yer 'ome wiv me, weffer yer like it or not," he took her hand and began pulling her with him. At first she resisted, and she put up a pretty good job of it. There was a battle of wills and strength between them, but she was forced to give up, and follow him back home. Neither saw the man in a black suit who had seen the encounter and quickly pulled out his cell phone and dialled the police.

It was the end of June. Anastasia quietly slipped out through the door. She looked to see Jack; he was usually there waiting for her. However, she didn't see him, so she went to find Lizard. She found the entire gang gathered at the entry point of the abandoned warehouse. 

They were obviously having an argument with someone at the door. 

"Wotcher on abaht?" Jack said angrily. "I never kidnapped no girl!"

A man's voice answered him:

"You were seen forcefully removing a young girl, of about seven years of age the day before yesterday. Don't pull the innocent act, we know what _your kind_ are like."

The man said the words "your kind" as if they were poison, and Anastasia realized that she too was included in Jack's kind. She was, after all, one of the urchins. About seven years of age… it had to be her they were talking about! That incident when she was waiting for Lightfingers. She walked forward to set it to rights, but stopped. It wouldn't do for them to see her in this condition. She slipped quietly up to Lizard and pulled her arm. Lizard looked down, and motioned for her to be silent. They slipped away.

"Awright, init? Let's cop yer potched up. Wot a bovver, right, Squirt." Anastasia raised an eyebrow, so Lizard continued: "Cor blimey guv, would I lie to you? They fink Jack kidnapped yer!"

She smiled.

"Bit daft, right, ain't they, the bloody bobbies?" 

Anastasia smiled back. 

"Right, let's cop this all sorted out."

They walked out to where Jack was still arguing with the police. There were two of them, one male and one female.

"Ah, there you are. Come along, child," said the female one kindly.

Anastasia looked from her to Jack and back again. Nobody had said anything about leaving. 

"You don't want to stay here, do you? With all these nasty ragamuffins?" Continued the man

Anastasia boiled with rage. They weren't nasty! Who was he to speak about her friends in that condescending manner?

"We can find your parents and bring you back to them," coaxed the woman. Anastasia was by now more convinced than she ever had been. She never wanted to go back to her parents. She raised her chin proudly and took Jack's hand. If she could have spoken she would have told them exactly what she thought of them. Sometimes it really was lucky she couldn't. She didn't think they would be too pleased. 

They laughed nervously.

"Don't be stubborn, girl, come now. We'll give you a good life."

She raised her chin even more. Her gang had trouble keeping from laughter. 'Good ole Squirt', Lightfingers thought. 'She ain't about ter abandon us at the first spot of Barney Rubble.'

The police left soon afterwards.

Little T started doing a victory dance for Anastasia's benefit. She clapped her hands, and he thought he'd never seen her look so happy as she did then.

At Hogwarts, school term was drawing to an end. End-of-year exams were prepared and last-minute homework was given in. But neither Hermione nor Remus could concentrate. 

"I'm worried about Sirius," Hermione said quietly. "All he's ever thought about since he came here is that girl."

Remus agreed whole-heartedly. "But what can we do," he asked. "We've tried everything to get his thought to something else. It's not working. Out only chance is finding the wolf-child."

"Maybe," said Hermione carefully. "Maybe you could. With your heightened senses, and we know Alastor got a good look at her."

Remus closed his eyes.

"Yes, it could work. As soon as the term ends, I'll recruit Alastor and engage in a full search after the little girl."

Hermione nodded.

"Just … "she fumbled for words. "Just be careful, okay. I couldn't bear to lose you."

Remus nodded and they both returned to marking homework.


	7. Chapter 6

**Becky4**: Thank you. Yes, Anastasia and Padfoot are communicating telepathically. Padfoot didn't go in human form because he believed that she would have problems trusting humans after her not-so-pleasant parents.

**Saxistwriterchick**: Unorthodox? Thank you … I think.

The beginning of July sneaked upon them without much ado. It was a rainy July that year, and the urchins found many excuses to stay indoors and chat. Anastasia was usually present for those chats, but she kept in the background. Sometimes they would make and effort to involve her in the conversation, but she felt more comfortable in the background, along with Little T. Sometimes the two of them would have their own silent discussion going using facial expressions. As the two youngest members of the inner circle, they were closer to each other than most. 

The discussion the other members had could be about anything. A favourite topic was whining about policemen, or perhaps talking about their various names. Anastasia learned that Lizard was short for Elizabeth, Bullet was nicknamed by his brother when he was very young for "being small and about as harmful as a still bullet", which wasn't entirely true any longer, and that Little T had no idea what his name was, and they spent quite some time trying to think up names beginning with T. Anastasia looked around and saw Jack smirk a little. She raised one eyebrow to him, and his smirk widened. 

"I ain't sayin' anyfink," he told her quietly, but of course the other gang members heard him.

They let out a howl.

"Yer knew! Struth! Yer traitor! Right! Yer 'ad us guessin' for ages like that, and yer knew all along! Blimey!"

"Well, Squirt, right, yer migh button it, right, but yor not daft, do wot guvnor! Certainly better than some of the uvver skin an' blisters Jack's brought 'ome," Lightfingers praised. 

Anastasia cocked her head questioningly. Other sisters? 

"Sure. Yer didn't fink yer were the only one, did yer, then, eh, mate?" Bullet explained. "Didn't ever occur strange that this stranger just comes up and offers ter help yer? It's 'is way ter recruit new members ter the gang. O'course, he usually fails right bad, but once in a wile 'e gets 'ome some bloke 'oo's actually useful. So 'e picked yer up and became puzzled by yor silence, and then yer grew on 'im."

Anastasia grew hot and cold. She knew it was stupid of her to be feeling this betrayed, but she did, and she couldn't help it. She knew she was selfish, to want to be special in the eyes of Jack, and she knew she was being unreasonable. However, that knowledge did not stop any of those feelings from running through her. 

The silence in the warehouse was thick and uncomfortable. Little T had put his hand on Anastasia's shoulder, but she had made no move to acknowledge it. 

"Squirt, luv? Squirt, right, I'm bloody well sorry. I should 'ave told yer this, but I didn't want ter make yer sad. I don't luv yer any less because I picked up some terrible girls and fellas for the gang. Yer right are me sister, Squirt, right, and I luv yer. Yer maybe don't believe me, but it's true," Jack bent down and tried to reassure her. His voice was thick.

She looked up at his face. He looked remorseful, and his eyes looked somewhat glittering. She had the suspicion that her eyes were equally wet. She turned her face away from him. It hurt, and she told herself that it was stupid, it was no big deal, but her body couldn't let itself be stopped by her sense. A single tear slid down her cheek. It tasted salty on her tongue. She dried it away with the back of her hand and stood up.

Only when she had entered the room she locked herself in during the full moon did she realize that they still hadn't found out what Little T's name was.

Sirius grew more restless by each passing day. He didn't know where the wolf-child was, or what she was doing, or even if she was safe or not, and it was not a pleasant feeling. He had long passed being worried, and was now bordering panic. He knew the teachers were worried about him, especially since he had never been one to waste his days in one place, but it didn't bother him. What bothered him was that as time went by, their hopes of finding the wolf-child grew significantly smaller and smaller. She could be anywhere by now. They could find her in Wales, or Kent, or perhaps Surrey, or Glasgow, maybe, or even at the bottom of a lake somewhere. Which was rather disheartening. In fact, the only place they could be absolutely sure she wasn't in was Hogwarts, and Hogsmeade to an extent.

He spent the days in his dog form. Although he had been pardoned when they had managed to capture Wormtail, he didn't feel comfortable around other witches and wizards. Or to be more truthful, they didn't feel comfortable around him. To the students he was just the Professors Lupin's cute dog, Padfoot. Which suited him just fine. After all, he had spent almost all of his time around the wolf-child as Padfoot. 

It had been a Hufflepuff fourth year that had first come across the idea to use him as a messenger.

"Here, Padfoot, can you give this to Professor Granger?" he had asked and held out a letter. Padfoot was quite willing to oblige, and soon the sight of a large dog speeding across Hogwarts castle with a piece of paper in his mouth was not an uncommon one. At least it gave him a feeling of being useful. Who'd have thought, when he himself was a student at Hogwarts, that he'd end up as a messenger dog within the castle? It was, in a way, Wormtail's fault. Sirius liked to blame everything that went wrong in his life on Wormtail, and to some extent, it was Wormtail's fault.

The days slipped by. Soon the students returned home, and Mad-Eye came to discus their search for the girl. Remus was a bit worried that they were keeping Moody from more important work, but the latter reassured him that he was completely free.

Sirius watched them depart with a description of Anastasia and a detailed map of London. He was feeling better than he had since he returned to Hogwarts. Now, the only thing he could do was wait.

Finding the wolf-child was harder than they thought. Moody had brought a dark creatures detector (guaranteed to detect the dark creature nearest to it), but it was of little use to them, since the needle kept spinning to the place right beside him. So they were forced to rely on Moony's sense of scents. They headed to London, which was where the young lycanthrope had last been seen, but made detours along the way, into forests and other places where a werewolf would be likely to be found. 

Moony spent a night in a forest howling before they could enter the city. It took days for Moony to find Anastasia's scent among the bustling people. But one day he found it in an abandoned warehouse, and he and his companion stepped in.


End file.
